


Kind Eyes

by buckybarnesthehotshot



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky barnes x reader - Freeform, F/M, bucky barnes fanfiction, bucky barnes x y/n - Freeform, bucky barnes x you - Freeform, winter soldier fanfiction, winter soldier x reader - Freeform, winter soldier x y/n, winter soldier x you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybarnesthehotshot/pseuds/buckybarnesthehotshot
Summary: The Winter Soldier finds himself in the care of a kind-eyed doctor (based off a tumblr request)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Kind Eyes

The task should’ve been easy; eliminate one of the organizations competing against HYDRA in the business of dealing weapons and return to the base. The plan was running smoothly until SHIELD got in the way, leaving three different organizations in a shootout. The Soldier’s fight-or-flight instincts finally kicked in when his whole team had been shot down and he had a knife wound deep in his shoulder. It was at that moment he ran in whatever direction he could to avoid more exposure to any of the agents before snatching a motorbike away from one of the civilians and getting as far away as possible from the scene.

His eyes fell on a vacant house and he managed to make his way inside, expertly picking the locks. He locked the door behind him and found a towel to place over his wound. He peeled his mask away from his face before taking the towel in his metal hand and held it against the nasty gash on his shoulder. He’d been so focused on stopping the bleeding that he failed to notice an h/c-haired woman entering the house.

“What the fuck,” she mumbled as the soldier got into a defensive position, pulling a gun from one of his holsters and pointing it at her. The girl froze, her eyes growing wide at the sight of the firearm before she spoke again, “I’m tired and my night shift just ended. Can we maybe skip to the part where I ask you what you’re doing here?”

It was the soldier’s time to freeze. HYDRA didn’t prepare him for how he was supposed to interact with a civilian; defenseless, but unafraid of the weapon he pointed at them. The woman standing in front of him wasn’t a target, nor was she in the way of one. He couldn’t just take her out for no reason. Besides, would HYDRA send a cleaning crew if he did?

He lowered the gun as the red-stained rag the soldier held against his arm caught the woman’s eye, watching as the blood began to seep through the rag and drop blood onto her wooden floors. She didn’t know why, but she found herself slowly making her way to him, her features weary with concern.

The soldier froze up again. What was she going to do? Was she affiliated with HYDRA in any way? Was that the reason she was unafraid of him? Was she just there to take him back? It couldn’t have been possible. Otherwise, the woman would have used force to get him into a HYDRA vehicle way before he even got the chance to point a gun at her.

“That’s a nasty cut. Let me help you clean it,” though the woman’s voice shook, the soldier could see the genuine concern in her e/c eyes. She wasn’t a threat. She just was somebody who intended to help him.

He nodded as the girl gently his metal arm and rag away from the cut. She didn’t flinch at the amount of blood escaping the cut. She made her way over to a nearby box in her cabinet and pulled the tools and treatments she needed to clean the wound. She brought these items to the couch, motioning for the brunet to take a seat next to her on her couch.

“Do I want to know how you got this?” she questioned, slipping on a pair of medical gloves. The soldier bit his tongue as the woman nodded slowly, taking his silence as an answer, “Well, you did great with applying pressure onto the wound, but we really need to stop the bleeding. If the bleeding goes on for longer, I might have to call you an ambulance.”

“Don’t,” was all the soldier said in response to her statement, knowing he’d be punished if anyone from the public knew of his existence. The woman’s lips twitched up slowly as she heard his voice.

“Look, I’m a doctor, but there’s only so much I can do for you with the tools I have here,” the woman huffed, “I can disinfect and stitch up the wound, but I don’t have anything to help with the pain.”

She was an ER doctor, she knew what she needed to do, yet she worried for the bleeding man on her couch. She smiled proudly as the wound stopped bleeding and she rushed to the kitchen to soak a rag with water to use to wipe the blood away from the man’s skin.

“This might sting a bit,” the doctor warned him, only earning a nod in response. She began to disinfect the wound, only now seeing just how bad the damage was to the man’s shoulder. The knife—or whatever was used to stab the man—must have been embedded deep into the man’s shoulder. Without the equipment she had access to in the hospital, she wouldn’t be able to identify just how much more damage the wound could cause the man.

When she finished disinfecting the wound, she began the process of stitching up the man’s wound. He stared at her as she pulled the needle and thread through his skin, sealing off the wound slowly.

The soldier could see the inner turmoil in the woman’s head as she struggled to focus on sewing the wound shut. He even noticed the bewilderment on her features as he never flinched at her actions.

“So, are you going to leave? Are you going to stay here? What’s the deal with you?” the woman questioned, taking a piece of gauze and bandaging the man’s arm.

“I don’t know,” the blue-eyed soldier responded, her eyes meeting his in an attempt to find an answer in his expression. She took note of how, despite his stoic expression, his eyes were clouded pools of blue, glowing with confusion. She pitied him, that much was true.

“Rest,” her voice was commanding as she stood from the couch, positioning the pillows in such a way that the soldier would be able to comfortably lay his head on them and rest. Still, the soldier shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

“No, you aren’t. Rest,” she told him off in a firmer voice, nearly reminding the soldier of his handlers back in HYDRA. He obeyed, resting his head against the pillow, letting sleep engulf him. For the first time in a long time, there he was, getting actual sleep rather than one induced by being frozen cryogenically.

y/n found herself pacing around her kitchen in panic; what was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to call the police and tell them a bleeding stranger—an armed one, too—broke into her home and she helped him treat his wounds? What if they began to ask her questions she couldn’t answer? Would they believe her if she told them she knew nothing of the man’s origins? Damn it, why did he have to break into her house of all places?

She decided against calling the police, wanting to get answers from the man first, at least before she turned him in. Was it the smartest choice to be making? Pfft, no, it was far from smart. Was it the choice she made? Yes, and she intended to take care of the man for as long as he was under her roof, whether or not he was a big scary criminal on the run.

Something about the man seemed so broken to her. The doctor in her wanted to come to his aid; to help him. She wanted to heal him, both physically and mentally. She noticed his hesitance when she offered up her help, and she noticed how he hesitated to even let her get close to him as though her touch would burn him. What happened to this man?

Her questions could wait. She was exhausted from her shift and there was nothing else she wanted to do besides fall asleep in her bed.

She woke up a few hours later, 4 PM as the clock read. She made her way to the living room to see that the man was laying on the couch, still, but awake. It was almost as though he was afraid to even move. She took her place on the armchair parallel the couch before asking, “Are you hungry?”

She was talking to him? His eyes met her eyes, once again only seeing kindness and concern in them, before nodding slowly. She made her way into the kitchen, motioning for him to follow her there, and he did.

“Are you allergic to anything?” she questioned, only receiving a look of confusion from the soldier, “Is there anything you’re not allowed to eat?”

Now that he thought about it, when was the last time he even ate? He knew what eating was and what allergies were, but when was the last time he was fed a decent meal? Much less asked about what he was allowed to eat and what he wasn’t allowed to eat. When was the last time he was given a choice?

“No,” he shook his head in response as the woman nodded.

“Is there anything you want to eat?” she inquired, scouring her fridge for any leftovers for her to eat. He wasn’t sure why, but only one word came to mind when she asked the question.

“Plums,” he responded curtly, earning a nod from the girl as she searched the kitchen for plums.

“Fuck, I’m out of fruit. I’m going to go out and get some, if that’s fine with you,” y/n smiled at him as the soldier tilted his head in thought.

“Alone?” he questioned, his brows furrowing. Before that day, he never knew solitude—except being left alone in the cryogenic chamber, of course. On missions, however, HYDRA was sure to have somebody nearby to monitor the Soldier’s every move. Yet, there she was, a stranger, allowing him to be left alone in her own home.

“You can’t exactly leave the house, can you? You’re wounder and you’re supposed to be resting,” y/n insisted, patting his back, “Besides, I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

The soldier watched as she threw on a coat and left the house. What was he supposed to do as he waited for her return? HYDRA never left him unsupervised for long. He made his way around the house, his gaze settling on a notebook and a pencil. He brought the graphite to the paper and began to write a sentence that came to his mind, “I’m with you ‘till the end of the line”.

He stared at the words, wondering where he remembered them from. He couldn’t remember much of his life now that he really got the chance to think about it. He was HYDRA’s soldier; that was what he knew. He also knew most people were able to recall their childhoods, so why couldn’t he?

Was the line from his childhood?

So many thoughts flooded his mind at that moment. He found himself slowly questioning HYDRA’s ways and why he was even doing their dirty work. He didn’t owe them anything, did he? He wished he could answer his own question but well…he couldn’t remember.

He began to spiral, trying his best to pull a memory or anything from the depths of his brain. He just wanted to know more about his own identity and yet he couldn’t rattle his brain enough to find the right answers.

Wanting to get the topic out of his head, his mind went to the few good memories he had; his fresh memories of the woman with the kind eyes. He smiled as he recalled the kindness she offered him that day; a kindness he never encountered in HYDRA. She treated him as though he were human; a stark contrast to how HYDRA treated him as though he was nothing but a weapon.

What would happen when HYDRA came to take him back? Would they take the girl away from him too? Would he see her again? Would they take the memory of her away from him as they did with all his other happy memories?

His head began to fill with questions he needed answers to, distressing him. He began to pave around on the wooden floor of her living room. What was her name? Did she not tell him or did he just forget?

Luckily for him, he was broken out of his thoughts as the woman made her way back into the house, locking the door behind her and holding up a tote bag, which she handed to him. He took a peek inside it to find it filled with plums and other fruit.

“Thank you,” he found himself smiling at her. She returned a kind smile, leading him into the kitchen again. She sat him down on one of the chairs around the table, allowing him to eat plums as she microwaved leftovers for “lunch”.

With a plate of heated lasagna, she took a seat in front of him as they both ate in silence. She wanted to ask him questions, but how could she when the man looked worse for wear. Sure, he was rested and was eating—like he hadn’t eaten in a while too, she noted—but sill, she felt bad for him. She took in his appearance and he no longer looked like the stoic man on red-alert she was greeted with when she entered her home. His blue eyes had dark bags beneath them, his eyes were too dry for her to be sure he’d drank water that day, and his hair was long and matted as though it hadn’t been washed in the longest time.

“Why are you so kind to me?” the soldier questioned, his eyes analyzing the woman’s expression.

“I’m a doctor. It’s second nature, at this point,” y/n shrugged. The soldier shook his head.

“You don’t even know my name,” the Soldier muttered loud enough for the woman to hear. Still, she shrugged.

“Well then, what’s your name?” she questioned, her eyes piercing into his. The Soldier’s brows furrowed; how did he not know his own name?

“People call me Winter,” he responded carefully as she gave him a satisfied smile.

“Alright, Winter. You can call me y/n,” she smiled at him with a twinkle in her e/c eyes, “Are you enjoying your plums?”

“You didn’t have to go out of your way to buy me plums,” he shook his head at y/n. She chuckled in response.

“I know,” she smiled at him, “But I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“You just looked like you needed some kindness in your life. You just have this vibe like you’ve been broken down over and over again,” y/n admitted slowly as tears brimmed Winter’s eyes. He wasn’t used to having somebody care for him the same way y/n did.

“Speaking of, do you maybe want to take a shower? You looked pretty battered up earlier, you might want to wash some of the excess blood off your skin,” y/n suggested, earning a nod from Winter, “Great! I will go set up your towels and I’ll find something for you to wear. You can go and finish your plums for now.”

Winter, again, smiled at the acts of kindness she’d shown him throughout the day. He even felt bad for pointing a gun at her right before she approached him to assist him when it came time to bandaging up his wound. He didn’t want to go back to HYDRA. He wanted to stay with y/n in her house and he wanted to learn about how she lived her life. He wanted to live life like every other human being and the only thing in the way of that was HYDRA.

Winter finished his plums and followed y/n to a room in her house—presumably her bedroom—and watched her scour her cabinets for anything she could lend Winter. She turned around to face him, placing a fluffy white towel in his arms followed up by a small stack of clothing she found in the cabinets.

She guided him to the bathroom before leaving him there to bathe himself. He took in his surroundings and immediately noted that the bathroom y/n had looked nothing like bathrooms he could remember…he could remember?

Remembering how bathrooms looked before working for HYDRA wasn’t much, but to him, it was a start. He bathed himself, letting the water flow through every crevice of his body, washing away all the dirt and blood from his skin. He took a shampoo bottle, squeezing an adequate amount onto his palm before massaging the foaming liquid into his hair.

He finished bathing and dried himself off with the towel as he took in his appearance in the mirror. The corners of his lips twitched upwards when he saw his clean appearance; no blood caked on any crevice of his body.

He got dressed in the clothes y/n provided him with, though they were a bit tight over his muscular frame, and headed out to see her sitting on the couch, her gaze fixated on the television as a news report regarding a shootout between SHEILD and other organizations being flashed across the screen.

“Did you have anything to do with that?” y/n turned to face Bucky slowly, a stoic expression on her face.

“Yes,” Winter nodded slowly as he couldn’t bring himself to lie to the one person to show him kindness in a long time. She nodded, sucking in a breath. Winter waited for her to scream at him, tell him to leave, or to hurt him. Instead, she took the remote in her hands and changed the channel to something more entertaining. Wordlessly, she patted the spot on the couch right next to hers, motioning for him to sit down.

They both spent that night watching whatever movie would show up on the screen. Winter didn’t know why y/n didn’t kick him out but he was grateful she didn’t because he found himself spending the rest of the week at y/n’s.

He made a move to leave two days after he’d first entered her life, but after questioning him on where he would go if he left—and receiving no responses—she’d decided it would be better for him to stay with her instead. The week was good to him, he felt like he could let go of the harsh realities of everything for the first time in his life. Of course, all good things come to an end.

“Is this a weekly occurrence now? Am I just going to be finding weird men in my house randomly?” y/n’s voice cut through the room as she entered the house, seeing Winter fighting off two men in the living room. One of the men’s heads snapped, turning to face her before he rushed in her direction, holding her up by the neck.

She gasped, clawing at the man’s hand in an attempt to loosen his grip. Winter’s eyes grew wide with anger as he knocked out the man he was originally fighting off before turning to face the man holding y/n up by the throat.

He attempted to get close to the man, only to get shot in the leg in the process. Winter, with a new fire of anger growing beneath him, grabbed his gun and shot the man in the arm, making him let go of y/n’s throat. y/n fell to the ground, coughing out for air. Winter rushed to her side, holding y/n protectively behind him.

“Why don’t you just leave me alone!” Winter roared, his blue eyes darkened with anger as he made his way to the man, holding the man in the air with his metal arm as the man did with y/n. 

“You are and will always be HYDRA’s asset. You won’t get away that easily,” the man chuckled before stabbing a needle into Winter’s neck. The world slowly went dark as he found his thoughts clouded with worry for y/n’s wellbeing.


End file.
